Best Night Ever
by The Talentless Hack
Summary: [one shot] [AU] [AM] Being a working girl isn't all it's cracked up to be, but there are a few perks....


**A/N**: For my little sister (who doesn't understand my anime & manga obsession but who I love anyway), and all the other high school kids out there working their first summer jobs.

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Disclaimer: Oh, _how_ I wish….

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_Best Night Ever_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

She hadn't been expecting her first real job to be a piece of cake, but then again, she hadn't planned on working opening night of _The DaVinci Code_ either.

Makimachi Misao shifted from foot to foot as she waited for the soda dispenser to stop being such a pain in the butt and start working already; it kept making funny noises and not wanting to dispense soda, and the crowd on the other side of the counter was getting restless.

She'd been working at the movie theater for a week, and in that whole time, she'd been ridiculously lucky; her friends, Kamiya Kaoru and Takani Megumi, were also working at the theater with her, and they'd pulled some awful jobs: Kaoru had spent her first night cleaning the bathrooms because it was a slow night (she'd started on a Monday, so go figure), and Megumi had had to work kitchen—cooking curly fries, funnel cakes, pizzas, and all that—which she had described as being a fate worse than death. Misao had so far only worked the registers at the front concession and been a runner once.

**(A/N: A runner is the person who grabs the food and gives it to the cashier to give to the** **customer.)**

The soda dispenser finally groaned to life and spat out…syrup. Misao watched it ooze from the dispenser and into the cup and twitched a little.

_Oh gods, please, no…._

"Oi Smiley," she called back to the other employee working with her, a quiet young man named Seta Soujirou whom she'd nicknamed "Smiley" because of his perpetual smile.

"Eh?" he asked, pausing in grabbing two hot dogs off the hot dog cooker.

"What's with the machine?"

He looked at the machine in question.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

In answer, she again pressed the pad for a regular coke, and again syrup oozed into the cup. Soujirou pursed his lips, thoughtful.

"Nothing for it," he decided. "Tell the manager later. We're too busy right now."

"But this is gross!" Misao protested.

Soujirou shrugged. "I don't know how to fix that thing," he replied, then went back to getting the hot dogs ready.

Misao frowned and with more than a little misgiving filled the cup with the syrup goop.

"Never woulda happened up front," she muttered, tapping the plastic top onto the mouth of the cup.

Tonight, Misao's luck had changed for the worse: she had been sent to work the second, smaller concession stand in the back of the theater, which everyone called "Satellite" because it was so far from the front. And on any other night, this wouldn't have been such a bad thing: hardly anyone ever went to Satellite for anything because most people got their popcorn and snacks and such at the front concession, so working Satellite was like being paid to be on break for eight hours. But because tonight was opening night for _The DaVinci Code_, everything was crazy, and there was a frighteningly long line at Satellite.

It was just her and Soujirou too, so they had to do everything themselves. It might not have been so bad if one of them was working as a runner, but both registers were open.

And on top of that, she was discovering that Satellite was no picnic: it was _way_ smaller than the front concession, and all the odd-ball appliances and things had made their way back here. Case in point: the popcorn scooper was made for a lefty (which Misao was _not_), and it was shaped weird so that it was impossible to get popcorn into the small popcorn bags, which (for some reason) were really popular tonight.

She turned back to the register and presented her customer with his syrup coke—he hadn't noticed, she saw with no small amount of relief—and slapped a smile on her face.

"Your coke, sir," she said politely. "Sorry for the wait—the machine's being a pain tonight."

The man nodded.

"Don't worry about it," he said, picking up his coke; she'd already given him his popcorn—small, of course—and candy.

"Have a nice night and enjoy your movie!" Misao called cheerfully as he left the counter, remembering that Soujirou had told her managers sometimes posed as customers to see the quality of the service for themselves; if she did everything she was supposed to—treat the customer politely, get orders out quickly, that sort of thing—she could be in for an instant raise.

_I could totally go for a raise_, she thought, then grinned widely as the next customer stepped up.

"Hello, what can I get for you tonight?"

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

An hour later the lines were still long, Misao's feet were hurting, her stomach was growling and—

"We're out of popcorn bags!" Misao wailed, drawing Soujirou's notice.

"What happened?" he asked from his register, looking harried and less cheerful than she'd ever seen him.

"We ran out of popcorn bags!" Misao moaned, clutching the sides of her head. "How could we run out of bags!"

Soujirou looked like he didn't know what to do for a moment.

"I can't leave," he said finally. "You're going to have to go to the front and get some more."

Misao groaned, then sighed.

"Okay, I'll be back," she said, striding to the door at the side of the counter, unlatching it and stepping out. She shut the door and dashed down the line of waiting customers, expertly weaving between those standing on the fringe to prevent an unhappy meeting with the floor, then broke into a frantic run once she was past them.

She dashed around the corner, past the bathrooms Kaoru had been scrubbing Monday night, and past the ticket ripper, a tall man with hair like a broom named Sawagejou Chou, also a longtime employee like Soujirou. He saw her and his eyes widened in horror.

"Makimachi!" he yelped. "The floor—!"

Too late: as her foot met the linoleum, it also met the puddle of water leaking from the water fountains next to the concession, and as if the world had suddenly started moving in slow motion, Misao felt herself slip up into the air and fall hard on her butt. In front of the huge line of customers at the front concession.

_Ow_, she thought, rather calmly considering the situation, as she sat on the floor in a puddle of water and contemplated the nacho cheese that had dried on the toe of her black shoe. _I think I just broke my butt._

"Oi, Itachi musume, you okay?" a voice asked, and a shadow fell over her. She looked up slowly, and found a tall, spiky-haired brunette man standing over her, watching her with more curiosity than concern.

"I think I just broke my butt," she repeated, this time out loud. Pause. "And don't call me that, Tori-atama."

The man grinned, reached down and helped her to her feet.

"What're you doing here?" Misao asked, discreetly rubbing her aching backside.

"We came for the movie," he said, hands sliding into his pockets. He grinned around the toothpick in his mouth. "And to see how you girls were doing, of course."

Misao frowned.

"Yeah right," she muttered. "So that means Himura-kun and Yahiko-kun are here too?"

"Yeah," he returned. "And—"

Misao's heart stopped as horror set in:

_Please don't say Aoshi please don't say Aoshi please don't say Aoshi_—

"—Shinomori."

Somewhere in her head, Misao's brain cells all collectively died.

She peeked around the Rooster's arm and, sure enough saw Himura Kenshin and Kamiya Yahiko—Kaoru's boyfriend and brother, respectively—standing next to a tall, icy-eyed man in a white jacket. And they were looking in her direction, naturally. As was most of the concession line, and the employees behind the counter.

"Oh why can't I just die already?" Misao muttered.

"Sano!" Kenshin called. "Is Misao-dono all right?"

"Yeah, no worries," Sano yelled back, grinning down at the petite girl now using him to hide behind.

"Oi Misao, you looked like a cartoon!" Yahiko yelled and Misao choked.

"Shut up you little twerp!" she snarled, forgetting she didn't want Aoshi to see her after her spectacular fall, and stepping away from Sano. "Gah!" she yelped when she realized what she'd done, and dove right back in front of Sano, who only grinned wider.

"Misao-chan!" Megumi called, hurrying over to the part of the counter closest to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alive, if that's what you mean," Misao returned sourly. She remembered why she'd come up front in the first place and whacked herself on the forehead, then groaned and clutched her head; she'd hit herself a lot harder than she'd meant to.

"Megumi-chan, just open the door and let me into the storage room," Misao whined, and Megumi sent her a half-smile of sympathy before she disappeared into the open storage room behind the counter to unlock the outside door Misao was standing in front of.

"What about me Kitsune, can I come too?" Sano asked with a smirk when Megumi appeared in the doorway.

"Get back in line Tori-atama," Megumi ordered, one eyebrow raised. "'Employees only'."

"Spoilsport," Sano returned idly.

Misao stomped into the room and slammed the door shut in Sano's face with a huff.

"I need more popcorn bags," she said stiffly, and Megumi sent her another sympathetic look before she helped Misao look for the bags—even the storage room was in chaos tonight.

"Things look bad up here," Misao commented after a moment of silence and Megumi made a face.

"The line was worse earlier, if you can believe that," she said. "It was going out the front doors, way past the box office. They only just closed the doors half an hour ago. What about Satellite?"

"Not fun," Misao said. "The soda machine's all weirdo, we have the reject popcorn scooper, one of the handles on the ice container is broken and it spills ice all over the place if you don't hold it by the bottom, and me and Smiley keep crashing into each other because it's so cramped. I crashed into him a while back and spilled nacho cheese on my shoes."

Megumi stuck out her tongue.

"Gross," she announced.

"Very," Misao agreed, shoving another box aside. "What about Kaoru-chan?"

"She's stuck cleaning up the theatres tonight," Megumi said with a shudder. "I don't envy her that—people are disgusting."

"Absolutely—bags!" Misao yelped, finally spying the damned things and grabbing a box.

Megumi grabbed another box and shoved it into her free hand, then opened the door of the storage room and ushered her out.

"Thanks Megumi-chan!" she called over her shoulder.

"You're welcome—don't run!" Megumi yelled, and Misao skidded to a stop just before she stepped in the puddle again.

She let out a sigh of relief—as did Megumi and a few of the customers in line who were watching her—then nimbly leapt over the puddle and started running again.

"Smiley's gonna kill me," she panted.

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

"I can't move," Misao said.

"Me either," Soujirou muttered.

"I don't wanna stay here," Misao said after a moment.

"Me either," Soujirou replied.

"But I can't move."

"Me either."

"You know what Smiley?"

"What?"

"I think we're boned."

"Me too."

The theater was officially closed, but that only meant more work for Misao and Soujirou, who were currently slumped on the floor behind Satellite's counter, backs against it. They were so tired that they didn't care that they were sitting on the floor, which was covered with unidentifiable, sticky things that Misao was trying hard not to think about. They had to clean up Satellite before they could clock out, and chances were good that they wouldn't be able to clock out until the front concession was clean too.

Misao hadn't been able to take her break today, which meant she'd been standing up nonstop for eight hours, and she hadn't eaten anything since lunch; she'd been running late today and hadn't had time to eat an early supper before coming in to work.

She didn't know what she was more of: tired or hungry.

"Knock knock," came a familiar voice, and Misao made the effort to lean her head back and look up.

Kaoru's tired face greeted her, the other girl looking just as worn.

"Hey Kaoru-chan," Misao greeted wearily.

"You look how I feel," Kaoru said, slumping onto the counter with a sigh that sounded more like a groan. "Today sucked."

"Muchly," Misao agreed.

"Totally," Soujirou murmured, yawning.

"You done?" Misao asked Kaoru.

"Yeah," Kaoru sighed. "Now I have to wait for Kenshin to come get me."

Misao turned her gaze back to where she was sitting and groaned, eyes closing in despair.

"I'm going to die here," she announced. "You're going to have to bury me here, and serve popcorn and soda around my body."

"Can't," Kaoru replied. "Health code violation."

Misao made a face.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" she muttered, referring to the other girl's stint cleaning the bathrooms, and Kaoru reached down and lightly thumped the top of her head.

"Be nice or I won't help you clean up," she threatened, and Misao brightened.

"Really?"

Kaoru sent her a smile that would have been cheerful if she weren't so tired.

"Yeah. Come on, between the three of us, we'll get out of here a lot faster. Plus, if we spend enough time back here, we won't have to help clean up the front, and it is _gross_ up there."

"How do you know?" Soujirou asked, sounding curious, as he slowly got to his feet and then offered Misao his hand.

"I went up front a while back, and Megumi told me that people had dropped so many drinks back behind the counter that the floor was totally wet. They put down cardboard because there wasn't enough time to mop up, and the cardboard had soaked through and was starting to get all nasty and soggy."

Soujirou and Misao made faces and Kaoru nodded in agreement.

The three began wiping down the counter and equipment and putting things back into order. Soujirou, being older and higher up on the chain than Kaoru or Misao, took care of the registers, making sure they weren't short and then taking the money to the manager's office. It was while he was gone that Misao told Kaoru about her shining moment at the front concession earlier, and Kaoru winced in sympathy.

"Ooo, that must have hurt," she said, sounding concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I guess," Misao returned morosely. "Falling on my butt in front of the gods and everyone wasn't the worst part, though."

"There's more?" Kaoru looked horrified. "You didn't rip your pants or anything, did you?"

"No," Misao returned, annoyed. Then she frowned. "Aoshi was there."

Kaoru sucked in a deep breath.

"No," she whispered, blue eyes wide.

"Yes. Oh _yes_," Misao assured. "He saw me slip up into the air and then fall right on my butt."

The two girls worked quietly for a long while and then Kaoru said, voice small,

"At least he knows you're alive now."

Misao glared at her, then threw her wet rag at the other girl's head.

"Yeah—and he probably thinks I'm a total spaz!"

Kaoru shook the rag off.

"But at least he's thinking about you!" she insisted, throwing the rag back at Misao, who grabbed it before it hit her in the face—wet face to match her still-damp butt? No thanks.

"As a spaz!" Misao protested.

Kaoru frowned faintly at her.

"I'm trying to be positive," she said.

"Well don't," Misao threw back, pouting. "There's nothing positive about the man of my dreams seeing me slip and fall in front of a packed theater."

"It's not like this is the first time you've screwed up," Kaoru muttered, and Misao decided to ignore her; she was too tired to get into a fight.

Misao had been madly—Megumi and Kaoru called it "scarily"—in love with Aoshi since her freshman year of high school, when she'd seen him briefly at a house party that Kaoru and Megumi had dragged her to. It had been love at first sight for Misao, who hadn't been able to think of anyone but the taciturn college student, which meant Misao didn't date. Aoshi, of course, had no idea that she existed; he didn't hang out with Kenshin and Sano enough that they could be called good friends, which meant he didn't hang out with Kaoru or Megumi or, by extension, Misao. In fact, according to Megumi, who went to the same campus Aoshi did, the man of Misao's dreams was quite antisocial, and it was very rare to see him around other people unless it was necessary, like a class or something.

Misao didn't mind that in the least:

"He's…kinda like Heathcliff from _Wuthering Heights_," she had once tried to explain. "Misunderstood—"

"Morose, obsessive-compulsive," Megumi had dryly cut in.

Misao shot her a dirty look.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you," she said haughtily. "Sano's a slob and he always skips out on the tab."

Megumi had frowned and turned up her nose, but she hadn't denied that Misao was right, and that was the last time she had said a cross word about Aoshi, however mild. At least, she hadn't done it again in front of Misao.

Soujirou came back and helped them finish up and shut off the lights, and then the three of them left Satellite and walked slowly towards the front, Kaoru and Misao with their arms thrown around each others' backs. Soujirou clocked out and said good-bye, and Misao smiled and said she'd see him tomorrow afternoon.

"You're working tomorrow too?" Kaoru asked, throwing herself down onto one of the benches in the lobby with a sigh.

"Yeah," Misao said gloomily. Then, she brightened a little. "But I don't think it'll be as bad as it was today."

"Probably not," Kaoru agreed, then yawned hugely. "I can't wait for summer break to kick in," she murmured, her eyes drifting shut. "I still have to study for finals."

"And then you'll be leaving me," Misao said with a frown, plopping down next to Kaoru carefully; her butt was still sore.

Kaoru opened one and eye and smiled, then reached over and threw her arm around the other girl's drooping shoulders.

"Don't talk like that," she chided. "You'll be graduating soon too, and then we'll all three of us be going to the same college. We may yet end up rooming together, eh?"

Misao shrugged and Kaoru gave her a gentle shake meant to cheer.

Megumi was older, already in college, while Kaoru was a year ahead of Misao. They'd met in grade school and been friendly ever since; in fact, Megumi had been the one to tell Kaoru and Misao that the theater was looking for people for the summer. Misao still wasn't sure if she should thank the older woman or not.

Megumi showed up a second later, her purse on her shoulder and her phone in hand.

"Going home?" Kaoru asked.

"Yes, _finally_," Megumi returned with fervor, and Kaoru and Misao exchanged amused glances. "I'm so tired it isn't funny."

"Here here," Misao piped up.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Megumi asked, looking down at her.

"Sore," Misao admitted. "But my ego hurts more."

Megumi smiled.

"I bet—that was some fall. You really did look like a cartoon, you know."

"Kitsune…." Misao said warningly, and Megumi laughed.

"Well I'm out," she said, snapping her phone shut. "Tori-atama should be skulking around out there, waiting, and I'm out of money, so I'm going to make him buy me something, because I'm starving."

"Didn't take your break?" Kaoru and Misao asked in unison, and Megumi shook her head.

"Did you two?"

"Nope."

"No time."

Megumi nodded. "I don't think anyone took their breaks today—it was crazy."

"And gross." Misao added.

"Very gross." Kaoru concurred.

Megumi wrinkled her nose in agreement.

Their friend said her good-byes and left, and then Kaoru and Misao sat on the bench, sort of holding each other up, for a few minutes more, until a short, red-headed man began tapping at the glass doors. Kaoru immediately brightened and shot up to open the door for Kenshin, though she neglected to warn Misao first, and the young woman nearly fell on her face. She managed to catch herself before she fell forward too far, luckily; she didn't need a cracked skull to go along with her bruised backside.

"Misao-dono," Kenshin said with a smile and a nod once Kaoru had let him in.

Misao had by then dragged herself up off the bench and was stretching out the kinks in her back.

"Hi Himura-kun," she said with a smile. "I'm fine," she added, seeing him open his mouth again and knowing what he was going to say.

Kenshin looked surprised for a moment, then smiled faintly.

"Well that's good news," he returned, and Misao's lips quirked; she didn't know how he did it, but platitudes from Kenshin always sounded sincere.

Kaoru and Misao clocked out and grabbed their purses, and walked out of the theater with Kenshin.

"You didn't take the bus today?" Kaoru asked when Misao announced her destination was the parking lot.

The younger girl shook her head.

"Drove," Misao replied. "I got out of the dentist's too late, so I just drove straight from there. Lucky I had already gotten dressed." she added, tugging at the collar of her dark green polo with the movie theatre's name sewn over the left side of her chest.

"Did you eat supper at least?" Kaoru asked.

Misao shook her head again, and Kaoru and Kenshin looked aghast.

"And you didn't take a break today either! You must be starving!" Kaoru exclaimed. "Come home with me, we've got food—"

"Naw," Misao returned with a flip of her wrist and a smile. "Gramps's probably got something waiting for me. Don't worry Kaoru-chan."

Kaoru and Kenshin exchanged unsure glances.

"I'll call you when I get home," Misao offered, and Kaoru chewed on her bottom lip for a moment.

"All right, but don't forget!" she warned, shaking her finger at Misao.

"It's less than twenty minutes from here," Misao said, rolling her eyes.

"You're really tired, Misao-chan, you shouldn't be driving like that," Kaoru said sternly.

Misao made a face.

"It's close, Kaoru-chan, chill out," she replied. She smiled at Kenshin. "She's delirious, Himura-kun, you should get her home."

Kenshin smiled hesitantly.

"Please don't forget to call, Misao-dono. Kaoru isn't the only one who'll worry."

"I won't forget," she assured. "'Night!"

"'Night—remember to call!"

"Go home!"

She watched the two walk away, then smiled and shook her head and dug her keys out of her purse as she walked toward her old jalopy.

"My two mommies," she muttered, though she said it was affection.

She got to her car, unlocked it and got in, then shut the door, clicked her seat belt on, slid the key into the ignition and turned it.

And nothing happened.

The smile fell off Misao's face and she stared at the dashboard. She saw a little green light that said "battery" was lit up, which wasn't exactly unusual, since it always lit up when she started the car. But it always went away after a few seconds. And it was still there.

"No," she said quietly.

After a moment, Misao turned the ignition off, and sat in the driver's seat, her palms beginning to sweat and her throat closing up and getting dry.

_Okay Misao, don't panic_, she thought firmly. _It's an old car. It's just being a pain. Just_ _try the key again._

So she did. With the same result. And each try resulted in the same outcome: nothing.

Misao sat in the driver's seat of the car for a long moment in silence, then ripped her seat belt off, threw the door open and slammed it shut, then began kicking the door.

"WHY WON'T YOU START YOU PIECE OF CRAP!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "Stupid evil car of hell! Rusty junkyard on wheels!"

"You must be feeling better," came a cool voice from behind her that she didn't recognize and Misao let out a shriek of fright and jumped, then whirled around and automatically punched her would-be attacker.

Except he caught her fist. Just barely, though—from the shocked expression on his face, she was willing to bet he hadn't been expecting that reaction. And then she noticed who it was and wanted to die of embarrassment: she'd almost punched Shinomori Aoshi in the nose.

Her night just got better and better.

"Oh gods," Misao moaned, closing her eyes and hanging her head. "My life is so unfair."

They stood there—Misao's fist in Aoshi's palm—for several minutes, until Misao realized her fist was in his palm, upon which she nearly killed herself getting her hand out of his grasp. Then she stared down at her shoes, which she was mortified to see she'd forgotten to clean, and consequently they were still spattered with nacho cheese. She also noticed for the first time that she smelled like old food, and wished some handy little hole would pop open under her so she could disappear forever.

_The first time I see him up close, and I'm wearing a gross green polo and nerdy black slacks that smell like stale hot dogs_, she moaned in her head. **_And_** _I tried to knock him out._ _Oh_ **_kill_** _me_ _**now**._

"Sorry," she squeaked finally, then winced and cleared her throat. "Sorry," she repeated without squeaking this time. "You scared me."

"You were busy attacking the car," Aoshi returned. "Naturally, you didn't hear me coming."

"Right," she said weakly, and peeked up at him through her bangs.

He was watching the top of her head, but because he was looking down, the street lights weren't on his face anymore, so she couldn't see what he was thinking.

"So…uh…what are you doing around here?" she asked, going back to staring at her shoes, and hoping he didn't look down and see the nacho cheese.

"I was walking home when I heard you ask your car, rather loudly, why it wouldn't start."

Misao hunched her shoulders.

"Oh crud," she muttered.

"So I thought I'd wander by and see what the trouble was."

"There's no trouble," Misao insisted, her head coming up. She shot him a wide grin. "Everything's fine."

"Right," Aoshi drawled after a pause. "The car just won't start."

"Right."

"Mind if I take a look?" he asked.

Misao stared up at him, green eyes going wide.

"Uh…wu…huh?" she decided on finally.

"I'd like to take a look at the car. May I?"

She stared up at him, sure she'd just had an aneurism.

"Okay," she dumbly agreed, and he inclined his head and gently moved her aside.

Misao stood by the open driver's side door, fidgeting with her long braid while she watched Aoshi adjust the seat so his knees weren't shoved directly under the steering column, then turned the key in the ignition and examined the lit dashboard. He tried it two more times, then fiddled around with the gear shift, which Misao hadn't thought to do in her state of desperate exhaustion. Luckily, the car didn't start—she'd have felt really stupid if all she'd had to do was make sure the gear was all the way in "Park."

Finally, he took the key out of the ignition and unfolded himself from her car.

"Is it dead?" she asked.

"The battery is, at any rate. This car isn't taking you anywhere tonight."

Misao sighed and closed her eyes.

"Great, now I get to walk home and hope my feet don't give out on me—the perfect end to a crappy night," she muttered. She opened her eyes and sent him a faint smile. "Thanks anyway."

He obligingly placed her keys in the hand she held out, and stood by quietly as she bent into the car and retrieved her purse, then shoved the door shut and locked it.

"Guess Gramps'll have to come for it tomorrow," she said, then frowned at the car and gave it one more kick for good measure. "Evil _evil_ hunk of junk."

"Wait here," Aoshi said suddenly, and Misao, having forgotten he was still there because he'd been so quiet, jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Huh?"

"Wait here," he repeated, "I'll be back in a little bit. Don't go anywhere."

Misao watched him walk away, his pace quick but unhurried, as he walked away and turned the corner and disappeared from her view.

"'Don't go anywhere'?" she parroted. "Where am I gonna go! I haven't got a car!"

But she obediently stayed put, hopping up onto the trunk and sitting on it lotus style. She sat there for nearly fifteen minutes before she heard the sound of a car coming, and she watched the corner Aoshi had disappeared around, curious.

A new dark blue Honda appeared, sure enough, and pulled into the parking lot, coming to a halt in front of Misao, who was watching it with wide, surprised eyes. The door opened, and she saw Aoshi seated in the driver's seat, leaning over and peering out at her.

"Come on," he said. "I'll take you home."

Her mouth fell open before she could stop herself and she stared at him in disbelief.

"S…seriously?" she choked out.

He looked amused.

"Yes, seriously. Get in. It's too late for you to be walking home alone. Why do you think Himura and Sagara wait for their women to get out?"

Misao wondered if she was dreaming as she slowly slid off the trunk of her car and got into Aoshi's, softly shutting the door. If so, it was a _really_ realistic dream, she decided as she slid her seat belt on and he waited for her to settle in before putting the car in drive and leaving.

Misao gave him the directions to her house—it wasn't really hard, just a little far—and they drove in silence for a while, until she suddenly blurted,

"I'm sorry about the funky smell."

Aoshi's eyebrow inched up.

"'Funky smell'?"

"Yeah," Misao said weakly, cheeks burning. "It kinda comes with the job…know what I mean?"

"Hm."

Silence descended again, and then Aoshi murmured,

"Is your backside broken?"

Misao choked.

"What?" she asked in a high-pitched, utterly horrified voice.

"Sagara mentioned you were rather sure your backside was broken. I was wondering if you ever found out for sure."

"I'm going to kill that Rooster!" Misao raged. "I can't believe he told you guys that!"

"We were wondering how you were," he said mildly, but there was a note of amusement in his voice that made Misao want to weep; oh gods, she'd been right, he thought she was a total spaz. "That was careless of the managers not to at least put up a sign."

It took her a moment to realize what he'd said, and when she did, she immediately brightened—he didn't think she was a spaz!

"We were about thirty people understaffed today," she said. "And the crowd sort of caught us off guard, you know? That was the crowd we were expecting when _Mission:_ _Impossible III_ came out last week."

"Hm." A pause. "You never answered my question."

Misao flushed.

_Sano is sooooo getting murdered_, she thought.

"It's kind of a weird question," she commented.

"Well, it was kind of a weird thing to say in the first place."

"Not if you'd been the one to fall," she muttered, and he chuckled.

"True." Another pause. "Well?"

Misao's flush deepened.

"No," she murmured. "My butt's not broken."

"Well that's good news," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice, and Misao didn't know whether to be flattered or mortified or both.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and when Aoshi pulled up in front of the house Misao shared with her adoptive grandfather, she slowly removed her seat belt and slid her purse onto her shoulder.

"So," she said quietly, turning to him but not quite able to meet his eye, "thanks for the ride."

"Like I said, you shouldn't be walking home alone at this time of night."

"Yeah, right," she agreed. "So…." She drew in a deep breath, then sent him a big smile. "'Bye."

He nodded, and Misao opened the door, climbed out and shut it, careful not to slam it. Then, she turned and stepped onto the sidewalk.

She heard the window roll down, and then Aoshi said,

"By the way."

She looked over her shoulder, heart beating fast. Really, really fast.

_Maybe I'm having a heart attack_, she thought giddily.

"Uh…yeah?"

"What's your name?"

"Makimachi Misao," she replied, somehow able to keep from giggling, though as delirious as she felt, it was truly a miracle that she managed the feat.

"Misao," he repeated, and Misao blinked. "And do you work tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly.

"What time do you go in?"

"Three."

"And what time do you get out?"

"Eleven," she answered, dazed.

"Eleven, hm?" Aoshi looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "I can do that, I suppose. Be ready tomorrow at two thirty, all right?"

She blinked.

"Tomorrow?" she asked dumbly.

"Yes," he replied patiently. "I'm going to take you to work and pick you up."

"You are?" She thought if this dream got any better she really would have a heart attack.

"Yes. Is that all right?"

She nodded dumbly, and he nodded.

"All right then," he said. "Good-night Misao."

"Good-night Aoshi," she said without thinking, then clapped her hands over her mouth and started at him in horror; oh crap, he'd never told her his name.

A corner of his mouth curled up into a half-smile and Misao thought she might melt into a puddle of adoring goo.

He turned around and drove off, and Misao watched him until she couldn't see his tail lights anymore, then sighed. Then, as a thought occurred, she reached over and pinched her arm, hard, then yelped in pain. She rubbed the abused spot and muttered to herself about her own stupidity, until she realized what that reaction had meant: she wasn't dreaming.

"This wasn't a dream," she murmured, eyes wide, as she stared down the street Aoshi had disappeared down. She stood like that for several moments, then smiled.

"TONIGHT IS THE BEST NIGHT EVER!" she whooped, then slapped her hands over her mouth when she realized how loud she'd been.

She hurried up the walk to her house, digging her keys out as she went, a smile still plastered on her face.

"Tonight is _still_ the best night ever," she said happily. Her grin got even wider when she remembered that Kaoru was waiting for her to call. "Ha—wait 'til Tanuki hears _this_!"


End file.
